


Quiet Moments

by nothandlingit



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:19:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 10,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothandlingit/pseuds/nothandlingit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and one shots depicting those quiet moments Killian and Emma share away from the chaos and madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiet Moments - post 4x03

Her lips feel thoroughly kissed when they finally pull apart, arms still wound tightly around each other as his hand cradles her head. The tears she had been barely holding back earlier have now disappeared from her eyes. In their place, a clarity like she has never felt before shines through and he ducks his head once more to brush his lips lightly against hers in a promise of commitment.

She takes a step back, hand trailing down his arm and curling around his fingers. They're at that stage where every touch is excitement breathing into their souls and they both want nothing more than to explore each facet of that touch. But with a phenomenal show of self-control, Emma keeps her hand in his and tugs him towards her car, "Come on, pirate."

He tilts his head as she opens the door for him, "Where are we going?"

Her eyes are sparkling and alive and she walks over to the driver's seat, closing her door behind her, "I want to show you something."

…

Of all the places she might have brought him, the scene of her near death experience had been very low on his list of expectations. Still, he doesn't question it and follows her out of her car and up to the giant ice wall.

Grasping her hand on the way, he tugs her close to his side and, when she looks up at him, she still sees traces of fear in his eyes. "It's okay," she says, "Trust me."

And he does. More than she knows.

She finds a patch of ice that is raised off the ground and smoothed over, turning around and taking a seat on it. He looks down at her, fearful that the cold will leech inside of her once more, but she merely pats the ice next to her and looks up at him with mischief in her eyes.

Expecting the ice cold of their makeshift chair to greet him as he sits, makes it all the more surprising when he feels nothing but warmth. "How are you doing that?" he asks, facing her with wonder and curiosity etched into his features.

She smiles, raising her hands, "Magic." She bites her lip, the implication being that her powers are most strong when he's around. She may be ready to admit that she can't handle this world without him, but she's not quite at the point that she can look at just  _why_ her magic is so intense when it comes to him. Instead, she reaches across his lap to his pocket and procures his ever present flask, "I know it's not champagne, but…"

The meaning isn't lost on him. They have a quiet moment and she is taking advantage of it. He catches her wrist with his hook before she can open the rum, "Thank you."

It's still new, this thing between them, but the foundations have been laid for something incredible, she can tell. It still hurts her heart to think of losing him but she's beginning to realise that, perhaps, that's just how he feels about her as well. She takes a swig of the rum before handing it back to him and leaning into his side, head resting on his shoulder.

She feels his lips on her hairline and smiles in contentment. There is always going to be danger lurking around every corner in this little town of magic and fairy tales but, as her hand reaches out to hold his and she feels shivers run through him that have nothing to do with the cold, she understands that she'll never have to face it all alone.


	2. 4x04 - date speculation

They are quite a pair, she muses as they watch mindless movies on Netflix, Killian's arm draped across her shoulders, fingers toying with the ends of her hair that is now hanging in loose waves around her face. Her dress is torn and stained with mud and flecks of blood, her legs cold and tucked up under her. On his part, his shirt is sitting wide open, a clean white dressing stuck across a wound where, earlier in the evening, an icicle was propelled at him.

The screen flashes images but, truly, neither of them is really paying attention. Emma's still wrapped up in the fact that Killian has both of his hands, that he made that effort just for her for their date. And oh what a date it had been but, she supposes, when the Snow Queen and Will Scarlet live in the same town that you do, there's not much to be done about the ever-looming excitement on the horizon. She feels sorry for Will briefly, getting caught in the middle of a battle that isn't his but, in the end, they're all facing that same woe really.

Her fingers trace around the edge of the dressing, face turning up to see that his eyes aren't even trained on the screen anymore. "You okay?" she asks for the umpteenth time. He's only just got his hand back and it's already suffered its first bruises.

His answering nod is already occurring before she has the question completely out. "Darling, I couldn't be more okay."

He cradles her head with both of his hands, drawing her up. She had always wondered what it would feel like to have both of his hands on her and, she has to say, it feels like home. And she knows that Killian feels that way too, that the hook many be an extension of him and a big part of his past, but this hand represents who he is trying to become, who he is for her.

He kisses her forehead and the tip of her nose, his hands sliding into her hair and pulling her in to meet her lips. Her neck is tilted backwards and it is easy for her to raise on her knees to meet the deepness of his kiss. As his hands trail down her neck and onto her back, she lifts one knee over his legs, sinking into his lap, her own hands bracing on the back of his neck.

It's a sweet kind of torture that they're both too exhausted to let this go any further tonight but, at the same time, this gentle exploration is just as intimate as undressing. She can taste his tenderness, can feel his care radiating off him in waves and, even as they break apart for a moment to catch their breath, every part of her knows that he will never be too far from her.

Their foreheads rest together, their eyes still closed, just breathing each other in as his hands trace every part of her that they can reach. She feels goosebumps rise on her skin as his hands reach her knees and push back up underneath the hem of her dress. But he keeps it modest, sliding them back down and then up her sides, over her ribs and, finally, into her hair, cradling her head.

"Can we just stay like this?" she whispers.

His lips graze hers just barely when he nods, "For as long as you want."

It's this part of their date that's her favourite, this stolen moment of quiet in the loft. Everyone else is long asleep and it's just her and him. He tilts her head in his hands, pressing his lips along her jawline and down her neck. With a smile of content washing over her features, she says, "Forever might work," the notion of always not scaring her half as much as it used to.


	3. 4x04 - hand speculation

His breathing is sharp and shallow, his eyes turned down in coldness and she can tell that he's trying to regain some semblance of control. His hand curls in a fist and his eyes dart to it, surprised. She knows that he's not the one controlling it and it breaks her heart to see him like this.

"Hey," she tries from her position on the other side of the room to him, "Hey Killian."

He looks up at her voice, fear etched onto every feature of his face, bottom lip quivering with the sheer effort of trying to stay in control.

"Emma, I can't," he breathes out through gritted teeth. "It's too strong."

On the floor between them lay the evidence of this. The smallest thing had set him off, had him grabbing Leroy as he shouted about the latest threat to the all but empty diner and threatening to tear his voice box right out. Emma's magic still needs some serious control but she had managed to sweep the dwarf out of the way, knocking him out in the process as it is.

"You're stronger than it," she says, stepping closer to him.

Leroy stirs, sitting up slowly and raising a hand gingerly to his forehead. "You need to control your man, sister," he bitterly spits before running back out onto the street to tell the rest of the town about the Snow Queen's rampage outside.

Emma knows she should be out there, being the saviour, but she is finally starting to see the importance of taking moments of selfishness amongst the selfless. Killian needs her right now and, to be honest, she needs him. Her magic is so much stronger when he's around so he needs to be fighting beside her when they finally reach the battle out of the streets of Storybrooke.

"Come on Killian, break through it."

"Get away from me."

But she does the opposite, stepping closer, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

His fingers clench and unclench and she can tell that the fight outside is nothing compared to the one going on in this pirate's body. "Darling," he says, his voice breaking, "Please."

His begging only brings her closer though, her hand raising to his cheek, "I won't leave you."

His eyes slide shut and when they open, Killian is gone from sight, a ruthless pirate captain standing in his place. It all happens to fast after that, his hand is raised in its fist, his arm swinging back, "I told you to get away."

She catches his hand as it swings towards her, her strength shocking her as much as him, "And I said no!"

His eyes widen and the force falls out of his arm, leaving it limp in her grasp.

"Hey, hey, here," she soothes, pushing his hand in past her jacket and her shirt to rest on her skin, just above her heart.

He looks like he wants to run, eyes fearful again, "What are you…?"

She hushes him softly, "You feel that?" and he nods, "That's not beating out of fear. I trust you. Okay? I love you."

It takes a moment for her words to reach him through the fog, but she sees the exact moment that he understands. There is no time for comprehension though, as he grasps the back of her head with his other hand and pulls her in to his lips, kissing her soundly and deeply.

It's when she turns her head in his embrace that it happens, sinking into the delight of his lips against hers, she feels a warmth pulse through her and out of every fibre of her being. She's felt it before, kissing Henry in the hospital. And suddenly, where his fingernails were digging into her skin, they're simply not.

It takes a monumental effort to break apart, foreheads resting together, hand still over her heart. "Did we just…?" he asks.

She nods, biting her lip, "Mmhmm."

And, for the first time in days, he smiles.


	4. Breaking Curses is a Family Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 4x05 - 'I love you' speculation

They're laughing as they fall onto the bed, pressed up against each other as he continues to tickle at her side and she continues to ruffle his hair, giggling about just how Captain Hook knows how to use hair gel.

Killian captures her lips with his own, kissing the smile off of hers until she is breathless and panting beneath him. They only have a few blissful minutes left before her parents and brother get home, but Emma is more than eager to make the most of them.

They had quietly been watching a movie when his hand had slipped around her waist and happened to catch on a particularly sensitive part of her ribs, sending shivers through her body. Killian had repeated the motion, eliciting the same response over and over until she had shoved his hand away and, with a half-hearted scowl on her face, told the pirate that she is ticklish.

And, well, that had been a mistake.

"Darling, pulling at my hair will do nothing to stop my pursuit. In fact, it will only strengthen my resolve." He rolls his hips down, showing Emma just how much he's enjoying her touching him. She gasps beneath him, latching her hands around the back of his neck and pulling him down to her waiting lips.

They've been treading this thin line of what they can get away with in Emma's parent's place, the anticipation of what's just over the horizon always looming and always sending bolts of electricity through each of them.

His hook presses the underside of Emma's knee, pushing it up so that he can settle into the cradle created by her legs, his body rolling more fully into hers.

She tries to stop the moan that escapes her, she really does. But when it comes to him, resistance is useless, so she smiles into their kiss and deepens it instead, tasting the warmth of spiced rum on his tongue. She finds it funny that both their favourite drinks involve cinnamon in some way.

And maybe it's that thought that does it, or maybe she's just too drunk on his taste to care what it sounds like, but when they break apart briefly, Emma's lips form the question she never thought she'd be uttering, "Do you love me?"

He'd been marking one of those burning paths down her jawline when he suddenly pulls back, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. "What do you…why do you…?" he manages to get out.

"Nevermind," she says, shaking her head, reaching back up to bring Killian in for another kiss.

But he's quicker than that and dodges her lips, "Uh uh uh, not until you disclose what has you asking about my affections."

She feels an immediate sense of regret wash over her, her heart beating at a rapid pace where their chests are touching. She wishes she'd just kept her mouth shut.

But it's a line of thought that has crossed her mind on several occasions and she thinks it might be time to say it all out in the open. Finally, she shrugs beneath his form, "I just think about it sometimes."

Turning the tables, he asks her, "Is it because you love me?"

She blushes – she bloody blushes – at his question, the urge to say, "No," and act like this conversation never happened nearly overwhelming her. She is the saviour and she has faced many a demon in her time, but this is perhaps the most fearful of them all. Which is why she has to do it, why she has to tell him about her fear.

"A lot of things happen in this town that are out of my control," she begins, "and now the Snow Queen wants me for…well, whatever the hell she wants me for." She wants to kiss him again, just leave the rest of this unsaid and never stop kissing him, but she pushes through her moment of pause and continues, "I've never gone into a fight knowing the outcome. I've hoped for victory, for the safety of the people I care about, but I've never known." Her eyes flick up to meet his, "That is, until I met you."

"Emma…" he breathes.

But she presses a hand to his chest, indicating that she needs to say her part before she runs away from the reality, "You fight for me even when you don't know why. You take a stand for my family as though you are a part of it and I wanted to know if you loved me, because I needed to know that we could break a curse if it came down to it. I want to be able to fight for you as you fight for me."

It takes him a moment to catch up, to realise that what she's telling him is that she loves him and she's hoping he reciprocates. He only wishes she could know how ludicrous that sounds to a man who has been in love since the moment he first laid eyes on her.

"I think you know the answer," he says, kissing her cheek softly, lingering for just a second longer than he normally would and ensuring his meaning is received.

A small smile lights up her face as she turns her head and meets his lips, a whole new realm of possibility opening for the two of them.

He'll wait until the ends of the universe to hear her say those words back to him just to know that she is ready. But, for now, when she breathes the word, "Good," and continues to kiss him like her life depends on it, it's more than enough. More than he ever could have hoped for.

And he can't wait to break curses with her.


	5. Timeless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 4x06 - the age discussion

"Okay," she sighs in frustration, throwing the file she's holding down to the desk and stepping around to where Killian is seated on the other side of the station, "I've gotta know."

He frowns, looking up at Emma with questions written all across his face, "What have I done?"

She sits herself down next to him, looking at him in all seriousness, "How old are you really?"

He wants to laugh. It seems so trivial that in the midst of a war on a family orientated Snow Queen, Emma is really asking this. On the other hand, part of him has dreaded this moment since the second he realised that he was in love with her. Who would want a centuries old pirate anyway?

"Why do you ask?"

She shrugs, "No reason. It's just one of those things I wonder about."

"How old do you think I am?"

She smiles, bumping her shoulder against his, "Stop answering me with questions. I'm not going to be repulsed."

"Even if I'm over three centuries old?"

Her head snaps up, "Are you?"

A slight smile ticks at the corner of his lips, giving away nothing, "Perhaps."

She edges closer to him on her seat, reaching out to grab his hand, her knees slotting in between his, "Come on, pirate. You expect me to believe that you haven't counted them all up?"

He matches her, moving closer himself, squeezing her hand in his, "Three hundred and thirty three is a lot of years to count."

Her eyes widen, "You're three hundred and thirty three?"

And his heart sinks at her shock. He can almost see the fear in her eyes, "Aye."

But much to his surprise she just continues on with the conversation as though his age is just a number to her, "When was your birthday? You would think that that would be somewhat of a milestone."

He chuckles, mostly in relief more than anything else, "Now that is something I cannot reveal. Celebrations of such a day should not be allowed. I have had more than my fair share of birthdays. I think I should leave those moments for the youthful."

She narrows her eyes at him, "You don't know when it is, do you?" He averts his gaze and she knows she has caught him in his lie, "You don't truly know how old you are either." This time it's not a question, but a statement of fact. It saddens her that he knows so little about himself after such a long life.

He shrugs, "I know that I am old, my love. And I know that you are young and brilliant."

"Hey," she says, reaching her free hand up to cup his jaw, "Age has no bearing on us. We're timeless, okay?"

He knows that it's her superpower to be able to tell someone is lying but right now, in this moment, he can see how she does it. Because there is not a trace of a lie in her soul when she speaks to him like this. It's tender and honest, and he realises that for all the times he sits alone and ponders his worthiness for her, she does the same.

The truth is, they are timeless, they would have found each other no matter when they existed because that's just what this family does.

He lets the tension fall from his shoulders, letting his head relax into her touch. "I love you, Swan," he says softly.

And he can taste her smile when she kisses him in response.


	6. Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 4x07 - Killian finds Emma

He finds her shaking and scared, her hands held out in front of her like she wants them to simply detach from her arms and leave her in peace, a feeling he can surprisingly relate to. Her tears have dried up but he can see the salty paths on her cheeks, the evidence of her sadness overwhelming and stark. She's down by the docks, back facing the town she has finally been able to call home.

He's been searching for her for hours, trailing past this very spot countless times. The fact that he's found her now is very telling and takes hope in that, hope that she might be ready to talk.

"Darling, you should come inside."

Her head almost tilts towards him, but she catches herself and continues staring outwards, focusing her energy on the distant horizon, "I keep hurting the people I love, Hook. I think it might be best I just stay away for a while."

But he won't have a bar of that, "Henry is fine and your father could never be mad at you. The only person you are hurting is yourself."

"You didn't see the way they looked at me. It's like they didn't even know who I was." Her voice cracks and he sees her tears returning, "I don't even know who I am."

He takes a chance, stepping forward and reaching out to grasp one of her hands. She flinches but, when nothing magical takes over, she lets him. "You are Emma Swan."

At that, she finally looks up at him and he can see nothing but fear in her eyes, "What does that even mean though? It is a stolen name from a family I thought might love me. But I was wrong. I was so wrong." Her bottom lip is quivering and she bites it to stop, fingers squeezing his hand so tight that he feels it go numb, "And I'm wrong now. I thought they loved me, but they only fear me."

He takes a seat next to her, pulling her closer as he shuffles into her space, "Hey, hey, no. The only fear they have, that we all have, is losing you. Don't think the worst of yourself. It's all the Snow Queen wants and you are so much more than the things you can't control."

It's like she realises all at once just how tight she has Killian's hand in her grip, because suddenly she's letting it go and sliding back just a fraction to put some space between them, "But that's just it. I can't control it, Killian. I don't know what I'm capable of."

"Then let us help you. There has to be a way to harness control."

The unshed tears in her eyes make her irises greener than he's ever seen them before and her lips are tinged pink with worrying them with her teeth. He can't take his eyes off her and he wishes she could just see what he sees.

"Why are you doing this?" she asks, sounding defeated. "Why are you being so nice?"

And it hits him that she truly believes that she's not worthy of his attention, truly thinks that the world is made to fear her and to make her feel isolated. All she knows is abandonment and that's all she expects.

Killian reaches out again, taking her hand in his even when she tries to snatch it away this time, "Emma, we understand each other. I think we've always known that." He pulls her hand up to his chest, resting it against his heartbeat, "I have no desire to leave you alone."

She turns her head to look down where her hand is touching Killian's chest and sees a swirl of light magic under her palm. Her eyes widen and she tries to rip her hand away, but his fingers are firm around her wrist and he holds strong, "Darling, you're not hurting me."

"Not yet," comes her panicked retort.

But he gently raises her head with his hook, bringing her eyes up to meet his once more, "No Emma, not ever."

She swallows, words caught in the lump in her throat, "How can you be so sure?"

He shrugs, "Because I feel nothing but warmth coming from you, nothing but tenderness and love."

The slightest smile crosses her face when he says it, knowing that he understands what she has been trying to tell him for weeks now. Because how could it be anything else but love with them?

"You've learnt to trust me with your life, now please trust me with this."

Her lip quivers as she heaves in a deep breath, wishing more than anything that she could reign in her emotions right now because she feels so unstable and scared and isolated and…

He leans in, capturing her lips with his, holding her tight and bringing her back to earth, grounding her and surrounding her in safety.

She swallows when he breaks away and nods.

"Okay?"

The magic from her hand and his heart curls up in delicate tendrils of silver in the evening twilight and Emma can feel the love coming off him in waves. She knows that he can feel her answer in that moment, that they are connected by more than just touch, but she let's that slight smile tick at her lips again and she looks up at him with resolve in her eyes, "Yeah, okay."


	7. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post 4x08 - smooches

He kisses her hard and with abandon, his hand and hook sliding along her delicious curves, fingers grasping at every part of her that he can touch. Her lips part under his, allowing him careful tastes of everything that they can be and, now that there's no one around to quiet them, her sweet moans let him see a future laid out before the pair of them.

Her hands slide beneath his vest and his shirt, pulling the tucked in tails from his pants and letting her hands roam his back. He growls, tugging her closer and pushing her harder into the wall of his hotel room.

His hand leaves any vague semblance of innocence at the door, sliding over her clothed breast while his lips, teeth and tongue work a trilogy of magic down her jawline and onto her neck. The unsaid words linger between them, love and promise and forever, but right now it's just them. It's always been just them.

She arches her back into his touch, a sinful gasp leaving her lips when his fingers respond with a gentle squeeze. "Please, more," she whispers, her head rolled back against the wall while his hook loops into one of her belt loops and tugs her hips forward.

Everything blurs around them, just the sounds of panting and lips catching whatever piece of skin they land on as their symphony. Emma jumps when Killian urges her, wrapping her legs around his waist and experiencing everything on a completely different level. She'd heard that when you truly love someone everything changes, but god, this is just making out against a wall. She can't wait to find out how else the fire burns between them.

Gasping for air, Killian pulls away from Emma's neck to suck in a deep breath, his fingers having tugged down the neckline of her blouse, mapping out the path his lips will next take.

But before he descends, Emma raises a hand to his cheek, eyes suddenly quizzical. Her other hand continues to trace patterns on his back and he turns his lips to kiss the palm now resting on his face.

"What is it, love?" he asks gently, moving his way down to her wrist and loving it when her hand curls around into his hair and grasps a hold.

She turns his face up to meet her gaze, longingly searching for something she can't quite put her finger on, "I could ask the same thing."

He presses his lips against hers again, rocking his hips forward and drowning in her sweet whimper. It's all too much to know that he's not in control, that his entire world could fall apart at any second – whichever second the Dark One chooses to use him as his puppet.

He doesn't answer her unasked question in the end, instead deepening their embrace, becoming lost in her everything and kissing her like there is no tomorrow.

Because he knows that there is every chance that tomorrow may not come for him.


	8. Saviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4x09 - kiss speculation

Her eyes sting with the effort of holding back her tears so, in the end, she just lets them fall. She has to stop denying that she is sad, because blocking her feelings is doing nothing for their current situation and, if this is the last time she may get to see her family, she's going to damn well cry.

Her parents are in the other room of the station having their own moment of anguish and, while she may have once felt twinges of jealousy at the perfect picture they paint – mother, father and child – Emma understands that they're just giving her a moment alone.

A perfect little moment with the man she just can't face right now.

"Emma," he says, voice cracking on her name as though he's having trouble keeping his emotions in check as well, "Darling, this isn't goodbye."

She keeps her back to him, eyes trained on the door of her office. It's her escape route if it gets too much in there, if it gets too painful.

It's already too painful.

"I don't want this to happen."

His voice is closer, as though he knows that she needs the comfort but has no idea how to ask for it, "There is nothing in this world that can keep us from winning."

She turns around then, recognising her mistake as soon as she sees the desperation in his eyes, the sincerity burning behind his bright blue irises. Her hand comes up to his chest, "So many things are trying though."

He grasps her hand in his, "Then we must stop them."

She looks down at their linked fingers over the cavern where his heart should be lying. "It could be so simple." The implication hangs between them like a tangible force, drawing them in. If he had his heart they could break this curse, she knows it. For the first time in forever, she can feel it. His breath tickles her lips, drawing a slight gasp from her, as her eyes flick up to see him pulling her in. "As simple as…" and then their lips meet.

There is no pulse, no shot of light and the curse still waves through the air towards them from outside the building, but there is still magic. Emma can feel it tingle on the surface of her skin, can feel how it reaches out to Killian, how it wants to bind to him forever and never let go. Her hand releases his and finds its way up to his cheek, anchoring herself to his solid form.

There is not much that she is sure about in this world and in her life, but this, this very special thing with her pirate – that is real and that is enough to make her want to fight.

The tear tracks are drying by the time she pulls away from Killian, her hands still bracing his face.

"I'll be back soon," she says quietly, stepping backwards just a fraction.

He catches her before she leaves just one last time, ducking his head and pressing a sweet kiss against her cheek just as her always does when they have to go their separate ways. It makes her smile, the simple routine gesture. Like this is just another day for them. And it probably is. There is always going to be another villain, another story that needs a saviour.

But as long as she's got her saviour, she's good to go.


	9. Post 4A fluff

She wakes with a start, Killian's leg kicking into hers as his elbow digs in at her ribs. The sun is streaming in through her half closed curtains and Emma tries to be one of those women who snuggles closer into their boyfriend but, in all honesty, she is too hot and too uncomfortable.

She rolls out of the bed, taking the sheet with her and looking back at the naked backside of the pirate who is currently starfished across said bed. It's a view that she can definitely appreciate, but Emma Swan is realising very quickly that she does not like to share the bed. No matter if the man on the other side is her true love, she wants the blankets and the pillows and the sheets all to herself.

He stirs, rolling over when he realises that he's in the bed alone. He's completely unashamed of his nudity, smiling up at Emma who is busily wrapping the sheet around her naked form. "Come back to bed, darling."

She shakes her head, smiling down at him, "I thought you'd be up with the sun."

"Not when I have such an interesting bedfellow." How he makes that sound deliciously dirty she'll never know.

Leaning over, she kisses him quickly. "I might go and have a shower," she says, stepping away from the bed. But he has a grasp of her hand and he tugs her gently backwards.

"What's wrong?"

And she smiles because he is 'quite perceptive', but also wishes that he weren't so damn clever. It seems petty to dwell on such a minor thing when they've finally been able to spend the night together, but she decides that it needs to be said, "You're a bed hog."

He frowns, "Oi!"

The exclamation is drawn out and she can tell that he's not entirely sure about the turn of phrase. "You steal the blankets and spread out across the whole damn thing."

He's still got his frown firmly in place as he takes in his naked form lying on the bed, "Darling, I hate to say this, but all the blankets are on your side and you've taken the sheet from me too."

She pulls her makeshift dress tighter around herself and looks down at the blankets pooled at the foot of the bed. To be fair, they are definitely pooled mostly on her side. But that doesn't mean he doesn't steal the bed.

He sees the look of realisation on her face and smiles, "Now come, love. I have dreamt of waking up next to you."

She'll never get over the way he speaks of her with such reverence. But in the wake of the ongoing snow that has been unnaturally falling around town for the last few weeks, there is finally sunshine and it is hot. And she loves him and that damn pouty face of his but, "Nope."

Despite his desire to cuddle with her, he can help but let out a sharp burst of laughter at her abruptness, "Oh it would seem that the dear Elsa left a day too early."

Emma leans over and kisses him softly, "I promise to snuggle in the winter."

…

She surprises him one evening, having bought a king size bed to allow for all the sharing they could desire. She also tells him that she's been practicing something and asks him to crawl under the covers as she follows close behind.

Her hand whirls through the air a few times, letting her magic flow freely for a moment. He feels the chill almost instantly, pulling the blankets up higher. Emma smiles at that, "It's working."

Kilian hadn't realised what was going on in the room around him, but now, looking up, he sees tiny snowflakes falling, collecting in mid-air before being pulled back up to continue an everlasting cycle of winter. He turns his head to the side, looking at Emma in wonder, "You…"

She pulls her arms under the blankets, wrapping around Killian's torso and resting her head against his chest. "Yeah," she answers, pressing a kiss to where his heart is beating strongly, "I couldn't wait."


	10. All of Me Loves All of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4x13 speculation from sneak peek

The smell of her grilled cheese and onion rings is suddenly completely unappetising to her, what with her stomach turning at the prospect that Killian had felt the need to lie to her. His cool dismissal of her questions had come as a surprise, his need to deceive her having passed by years ago now, and she's not sure what that means or how she's supposed to break through that wall.

It plagues her for the rest of her shift and, when she finally calls it a night, the feeling in the pit of her stomach hasn't disappeared. She goes straight to his hotel room at Granny's, no desire to go home without at least speaking to him first.

He opens the door before she knocks and she can tell that it's been on his mind as well, although he still appears as though he's remaining tight lipped on the subject. She steps into his room, dropping a quick peck to his cheek as she passes him, heading for the chair in the corner of the room to let her jacket fall as she slides it off.

He has the television on, but switches it off as she turns to face him, questions burning in her eyes.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she asks, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," he says predictably. "Not today."

"But one day?"

He smiles a grim smile, reluctant to relinquish a hold on his deepest secrets. But Emma is his hope, she is the part of his life that would make sense even if the sky was falling down around them. And so he nods, "One day you will know every inch of my soul, Swan. I assure you."

And she trusts him. There's a part of her that she knows it selfish and that she knows only wants the stories for herself, to say that she truly knows him. But there is also a large part of her that knows what keeping secrets can do to your heart – it hurts and welcomes loneliness until everything in your soul is blackened and miserable. And she knows that is not a life for him. Centuries of tales dance in his eyes but she only wants one tonight, she decides – she just needs the assurance that his heart isn't lonely. "Would you tell me something if I asked?"

He senses her shift in inquiry and steps into her space, wrapping his arm around her waist and cupping her face gently with his hand, "I fear I would have no choice."

She leans into his touch, eyes sliding shut and heart pounding. "So tell me," she whispers, scared that if she says it any louder she'll frighten him away.

When he speaks, his words can be felt on her lips and she can taste how close he is. "I love you," he answers. "With all that I have and all that I am, I adore you."

His nose brushes her cheek and his lips bump against hers without settling there and she wants him so intensely in this moment. She wants every part of him – his past, present and future. And so when she says, "Okay," it's not in answer to his declaration, but more an acceptance of his secrets.

He pulls her in, lips pressing against hers fiercely, twin heart beats pounding out the same rhythm in their chests, fingers pulling and touching and fumbling until they are revealed to each other and the secrets don't matter.

…

She tells him later that she has hidden things from him as well and he nods, pulling her closer to him under the covers, their legs tangling as his moves a reckless strand of hair from her face with his bare wrist, "I know."

"And that doesn't worry you?" she asks.

He kisses the tip of her nose, snuggling in closer to her, "No."

She searches for the lie, looks long and hard for it but knows that she won't find it. He may be a pirate, but he is an honest one at that and she trusts him. Her fingers find his on her hip and tangle them together, bringing his hand to her lips to press a soft kiss to. "I love you, you know?"

"Aye," he says simply.

And though she knows no more about his past, she still feels closer to him – as though he's let her in a little further past his walls.


	11. Post De Vil Angst

He finds her hunched over in his quarters, clad in only her undergarments, and it is a true testament to how concerned he is for her that the only reason his heart speeds up is out of a sheer need to protect and not for any reasons of lust.

"Swan?" he asks tentatively, cursing the fact that his voice sounds so loud in the otherwise still tension of the room.

She turns to him, not saying a word, her hands falling from where they had been clawing at her chest, the skin below red raw with desperation. "I need it to stop," she whimpers, whole body shaking, eyes fearful and wide. "I need the feelings to stop."

It strikes him then exactly what she had been trying to do when he had walked into the room and he thanks whatever entity has prevented it thus far. "Emma, you can't do this to yourself. You can't make it go away."

Her red rimmed eyes flash with anger, "But I should be able to."

It breaks his heart to see her like this. Darkness is unpredictable and careless. It will creep into your soul and leave you lifeless without remorse. It will tear you apart and rebuild you in its own image. It is a demon that no person should ever have to be burdened by, least of all someone who has fought for so much in their life only to have reached dead ends at every turn.

"Ripping your heart out won't make it go away. It will just make you vulnerable to more pain, love."

She shakes her head, "It doesn't matter. Don't you see? Gold has won. He's got what he wanted. I can feel it, Killian. I can feel my heart dying." Her breathing is laboured, shaking hands reaching back up to her chest, trying to press her fingers through the skin, trying to rid herself of her humanity. "If I take it out, he can't have it. No matter what he does to me, he won't touch my heart."

"Emma," he insists, "this is not the answer."

The anger flares again, "How do you know?"

"Because I was in that darkness for centuries. Not moments and flashes, but deep within its grip for too long." He takes a tentative step towards her, holding out his hand, hoping that she will grab a hold and let him take care of her just this once. "And then I met you and light seeped back into my dark world. I found love was creeping up on me and overthrowing the darkness."

Emma watches him carefully, eyes darting from his outstretched hand to his face and back again, trying to read the lie in his words, trying to find the fault in his logic.

Killian continues, taking another step forward, "You breathe light into everything that you touch. It is profoundly unsettling to be the man who is in love with you, knowing that I once held such darkness around me."

A hint of a smile curls at her lips and she wonders if he realises he's just told her he loves her for the first time. She thinks she's known for a while now, but it's something else to hear it. He answers her smile with one of his own and she reaches out to take his hand, allowing him to draw her to his body as he wraps his arms around her and tucks her head under his chin.

She can almost feel the tension leave him as she breathes into his neck.

He kisses her temple and lowers his lips to her ear, speaking with a serious tone, "When the Dark One took my heart, the love I felt for you did not go away, everything that I am did not disappear –it was merely muted, as though I was walking around in a morning mist on the stormy ocean." His hand slides from her waist up her back, pressing her close to him, "If you remove your heart, you will still be fundamentally you and, whether they did the right thing or not, thanks to your parents, you are filled with light. Keep your heart in its safest home."

She curls herself in tighter to him, almost as though she is trying to crawl inside the safety he provides, "But what if I can't fight it?"

He can feel her tears soaking through his shirt and cradles her head against his chest to let her know he doesn't mind, that it's okay for her to let it out. "You will," he says with conviction.

"That's an awful lot of faith you're putting in me," she mutters in answer and Killian wonders if she realises she's just repeated his own words back to him.

It's startlingly clear to him that Emma will always win in the fight against evil. She is strong and brave and sure in her fight. And, even though he is worried sick about the darkness creeping into her soul and what it's doing to her, he knows she will remain in control. So he does the only thing he can – he tells the truth and hopes she can still hear it in his voice, "I know."


	12. We Stayed Afloat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post season 4 finale

Sometimes she's remarkably different. He notices little things in her demeanour that certainly weren't a part of her personality before. He sees her quick temper and how she tries to hide how much it hurts her heart to see him watching her so carefully. He hears the way she cries out at night, sometimes for Henry, sometimes for him and sometimes for people he's never heard of before. He realises, after a few weeks, that it's not her own cries, but those of centuries of memories tethered to this dark being inside of her. He tries not to feel a stab of jealousy rise up in him when he hears her call for Baelfire, reminding himself that some part of the Crocodile now lives in her.

Her hand wraps around his sometimes and he has to adjust to the coldness he feels. There is a barrier between them now, one that he is not sure how to approach. She looks at him with love, but also sorrow, as though she has done him wrong by becoming this…thing. This monster.

But he will never allow her to see herself in that manner, squeezing her hand and kissing her forehead. She is still Emma, still the woman he loves, still remarkably the same even despite all the differences.

He finds her bent over the bathtub one day, fingers gloved and wrapped around a sponge, a light sheen of sweat glowing on her forehead as she scrubs the tiles above the bath.

She turns around when she hears him, frowning at the way he's smirking at her. "What?" she asks, brushing a few strands of rebellious hair away from her face with her forearm.

He shrugs, leaning against the doorframe, "I find it somewhat amusing to witness the Dark One going about domestic chores."

Her frown turns to a smile as she takes a look down at herself. Her clothes are old and worn, bleach dyed and threadbare. The bathroom smells like lemons and limes and she has to laugh, because the only other option is crying. It's been hard – feeling this darkness consume her, knowing the rules of the beast and understanding that for her to reclaim her soul, someone else's must perish. It's a terrifying thought that she holds that control and, yet, the darkness makes her see it as beautiful and precious power – she has a war raging inside of her as dark and light battle to cling to her heart.

So, for a moment, she breathes in and she laughs. She laughs until her cheeks hurt and her abs feel like they've had a good workout, doubling over when she sees that he's joined her.

The sound of the two of them echoes around the spotless bathroom and reminds them that this situation could be so much worse. They have each other, they love each other and no amount of darkness can tear apart two people who have chosen to only seen the best in one another.

Their laughter settles after a while, both of them feeling a sense of relief overcome them. It's been too long since either one of them had smiled so genuinely.

He takes a step into the bathroom and she removes the gloves, raising her hands to cup his face and draw him to her. Her nose brushes his and she breathes in deeply, surrounded by the scent of him. She knows it's the calm before the storm.

"I love you," he whispers and she nods, before leaning into his offered kiss. She hasn't been able to say it again, not since the night she had become the Dark One, but she knows he can feel it in the way she responds to his gentle touches.

She pulls back with a final peck to his lips, "I'll see you later?"

He nods, knowing that she's asking him for some time alone in the nicest way she can, "Of course." He's become accustomed to enjoying whatever moment he might get with her, having scaled her walls long before she held the title of a dark sorcerer.

It's almost comforting, in a way, how familiar that can feel. Because in a world where everything is different, where she is so different, it's a beautiful thing to have some familiarity.

…

She opens up later, answering his unasked question by telling him that she simply cannot fathom using her magic for anything at the moment, that she's too afraid of hurting everyone.

He tells her he'll always be there for her. Even if that means he has to clean the bath.


	13. Future drabble - wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the tumblr prompt "I can't believe you talked me into this".

"Do you think I can get away with 'I can't believe you talked me into this'?" Emma asks, already flinching as she sees her mother's face contort in shock.

" _Emma!"_ Mary Margaret exclaims, fixing her daughter with a stern glare, "I may have compromised on a lot of the Enchanted Forest traditions, but these are your  _wedding vows_."

Emma fights the urge to roll her eyes, instead looking at her mother in desperation, "I'm not good at these kinds of things. Killian's the wordy person." She's always been more of the action type. But she's not very well going to _show_ Killian how she feels with a room full of people all staring at them.

Why had she said yes to the big wedding again?

Neither Killian nor Emma had wanted anything too showy, content to wed on the Jolly Roger under the stars with Henry and her parents bearing witness. It turns out, though, that there are countless people who  _want_ to see them happy. Throw in a little persuasion of the Snow White variety and they had agreed to converting one of the old dock buildings into their wedding venue. Neither of them would compromise on being by the water, which only made them more sure that they were the right people for each other.

Not that they could really fight the True Love title.

Emma feels Mary Margaret's hand on her shoulder and looks up. Most of the time, now, she sees her mother looking back at her but, today, she sees her friend and she couldn't be more grateful. "When we first met, you were closed off from the idea of love. Something changed in you when you met Killian. Just write about that."

She knows her friend is right, but she wonders if maybe she just needs a break to clear her head. She nods, "I'm going to take a walk and come back to it."

Mary Margaret answers her nod with one of her own, "It'll come to you."

…

She ends up at the docks, walking through their makeshift wedding venue, smiling at the way the dwarves have managed to hang the fairy lights to look like stars. She wonders if the fairies had anything to do with that extra twinkle they seem to possess.

The footsteps behind her don't startle her; she can tell it's Killian and simply waits for him to approach her, welcoming the arms around her waist when he does.

"Hi," he whispers in her ear.

"Hi."

"Hard to believe we'll be getting married here tomorrow."

She nods, leaning back into his hold as his hand and hook trace patterns across her hips and stomach. "Killian…" she warns.

"I missed you," he breathes.

She smiles at the sentiment, "It's only been a few hours."

He presses his lips to her neck and mutters, "Still too long."

"You're not supposed to see me before the wedding," she protests, rocking her hips back into his and completely nullifying that particular comment.

His lips continue to travel along her neck, up to her jawline, "I won't see you tonight or in the morning. That will be enough."

And she finds herself nodding in agreement, turning her head to meet his eager kiss. It's slow and messy and his hand on her hip is pressed so tightly she can feel the heat radiating in her very soul. She turns in his arms, tilting her head to deepen their embrace, relishing in the feel of his hook lifting her sweater at the back to run along her waist and draw her closer still.

They're panting for breath when they pull away, knowing their time is limited. Emma looks up, meeting Killian's blue gaze for the first time since she stepped under the fairy lights and she honestly doesn't know how she's going to get through the ceremony tomorrow because the way he's looking at her right now has her feeling giddy and weak at the knees with every emotion imaginable.

He makes her  _feel_ so much and it hits her that  _that's_ what she needs to write about in her vows.

She bites her lip and he groans, knowing that look in her eye and that their time is almost up. Resting his forehead against hers, he says, "I can't believe you talked me into this."

She laughs, pressing her lips to his once more, needing to leave before they end up spending the night beneath their own canopy of stars, "I could say the same thing."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a drabble missing scene because I want to know why they were making out in the woods :)

“We can do this. We can get the darkness out of both of us for good.”

She can see it, the moment he finally starts to believe her, that he can see that there is some hope.

“How?” he asks, fear still present in his eyes.

“By doing what I just did with you,” she answers, “By going to those we love.”

He nods slowly, so close to her that their noses bump and a small smile flickers across his face, “Aye. But first…”

He tilts his head just a fraction, knowing that she will do as she always has and meet him half way. She doesn’t disappoint and they fall into their familiar rhythm, lips parting on breathy sighs and unrestrained whimpers. It feels different, he realises, as her hand snakes up his arm and around the back of his neck; there is magic crackling beneath his skin, burning in his fingertips, and it feels like the build to something incredible.

Their lips part for a moment, foreheads still touched together, and he takes the opportunity to ask, “Is it always so…” he bites his lip, contemplating the best way to describe the dizzy in love feeling he’s experiencing.

She saves him the trouble though, nudging his nose with hers as she rocks her hips dangerously over his. “Every. Single. Time,” she says, punctuating each word with a kiss to his face and sending currents of electricity into every pore of his being.

He wraps his hooked arm tighter around her, wanting to feel her closer, draw her in until there is nothing between them. He knows, in this moment, he will be insatiable when it comes to her. The darkness is a lure but Emma Swan is his vice.

She licks her lips and pulls herself up to meet his kiss again. It’s wet and heated and she knows he can feel their combined magic and knows it must be driving him absolutely wild. It’s always been there for her, always just burning on the edges of her pleasure, but here and now, it’s at the forefront of everything between them, her hands wanting to touch every part of him, his whimpering moans echoing in her ears and sending jolts of electricity through her and into him.

The curve of his hook presses firmly at her back, sliding lower until she is sure he’s going to try and lift her. But something tugs at the corners of her blissfully aroused haze and she knows she can’t ignore it.

Pulling back with a smile, she allows herself one more second to just breathe him in before, “Alright. Enough distractions.”

His smile matches hers and it’s probably the hardest thing in the world to not use one of the trees around them to their advantage and just jump him. But she knows the importance of the path they must take, so she heeds her own advice and pulls away completely, already thinking of a time when they can explore that crackle and burn again.


	15. Just One Minute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a thing because my heart is not coping with this episode. Come not cope with me.

“Just a minute more,” he whispers in a hushed breath, fingertips running across the delicate pink skin of her cheek, smiling when her own lips curl upwards lazily. “Just one more.”

Her leg slides along his beneath the warm blankets of their shared bed, the tickle of his hair against her bare skin making her tingle with the comfort it brings. They’re so wrapped up in one another that it’s hard to tell where she ends and he begins, their bodies sated and blissfully heavy. She can feel his breath fanning across the crown of her head, the proof that he is alive moving smoothly through the fine blonde strands. She sighs softly, her own breath misting on his chest, warm and damp and so, so tangible.

She scratches her fingernails lightly up his stomach, senses alight with every twinge of a muscle under his skin, with every course hair that her hand passes over, she pauses at his heart, relishing in the ebb and flow of the beat in his chest. She counts out the movements in seconds, giving him what he needs.

Just one minute more.

His breathing stutters and then he is leaning forward, kissing the top of her head now, a desperately ragged pattern of breath escaping him. He sniffs and she pulls back, heavy eyelids opening as her eyes flick up to meet the redness of his, his tears smeared across his cheeks.

“Hey,” she says, her hand sliding from that place on his chest, up past his collarbone, up past his neck, cupping his jaw and tenderly running her thumb under his eye. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

He’s still looking at her in bewildered wonder, as though she might just vanish at any second. And she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t scared too; losing him has become something that is all too regular an occurrence. But, despite it all, he always trusts her and, when she assures him that she’s right here with him, he nods.

She watches him for a long moment then, searching his soul for nothing in particular. Just… searching.

“What is it, my love?” he asks as takes a deep breath, his chest meeting hers under the covers with the enormity of it.

She smiles and leans in to brush her lips against his, delighting in the spark under her skin, the warmth like sunlight radiating from the inside of her outwards. Then she mumbles against his lips, “I love you,” and she hopes he understands what it means that she’s saying it without a threat upon their lives.

She is exhausted, so desperately fatigued, but she wants to hold onto this moment for a lifetime, his body moulded to hers in their home, alive and together. She wants to erase the memories of the past, of their goodbyes, of the clutching and clinging and the heart breaking letting go.

But it’s all too much and she is _so_ tired.

So, she compromises with her heart and promises him exactly what he wants, what they both need.

With heavy eyelids and a lifetime before them, she promises him, “Okay, just one minute more,” and she will continue to do so until all their minutes are up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, come let me know how you're holding up. Because I am not.


End file.
